| » Poem: Dying to feel pt. 2 |
Dying to feel pt. 2
written by DeaD_DyinG_PaiN01:55 AM 3/4/05| I dwell past my own self strife to walk near that house’s yard. But every time I stand next to the wind that even so much as blows in that direction the eerie sounds just freeze my blood to the point of subzero .I saw Steven enter the house like he didn’t care what happened or what it’s past was, I don’t think he even knows the history about this town. How can he even sleep in there. My big brother locked me in that house for over an hour I had dreams about blood dripping from the ceiling and maggots eating my flesh for weeks. Most people can say sober and mean it. To me sober isn’t just a word it’s a feeling that I can never be. I walk right past that house and to my own back to the yelling and screaming of how much I’m a failure. I throw my stuff in my room grab a mountain dew and come back in and write in my journal. But I cant seem to erase that house out of my mind. Is it just the house or is it Steven? I close my journal shut off my light and close my eyes. “all is dark and empty, I look around and I’m in a empty room laying on a bed a shadow runs by I catch it with the corner of my eye. I get up and try to find a way out. Something hits me in the head I fall hard on the cold floor. I awake in a bathtub full of red cold liquid I look at my wrists and they are cut wide open, I scream for help and all I can hear is the faint sound of beeping.” Beep.. Beep I lifeless hand hits the alarm clock I guess its 7:30 another day of hell, school. Their little freak jokes aren’t even hurtful more like annoying. Life is better without friends. Brush you teeth, brush your hair, fix you make up, grab your backpack and your out of there. I walk slowly past the house and stare at Steven leaving the house for school. He light up a cigarette and my mouth watered, I haven’t had one since my overdose. I secretly hoped he would walk up to me and notice me staring at it and ask if I wanted one. But he didn’t even see me he put his head phones on and walked right pasted me. |
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| » Comments / Feedback | by Marigold (3-4-2005 - 02:05 AM)
| Smokings bad, but that doesn't matter. Not as good as the first, but still good. Read my poem please, and if you like that most of my other stuff is like that. |
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